


Swimmer

by patrochills



Category: Achilles - Fandom, Greek and Roman Mythology, Modern AU - Fandom, Patrochilles - Fandom, Patroclus - Fandom, Song of Achilles - Fandom, The Song of Achilles, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller, greek myths - Fandom, tsoa
Genre: BoyxBoy, Fanfiction, Gay, M/M, Modern AU, Screaming, Swimming, Swimming AU, myths, school au, very gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 16:55:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8293130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrochills/pseuds/patrochills
Summary: "Why do you swim so much?""So I don't drown."In which Patroclus is the fastest swimmer in the state and Achilles is an up-and-coming runner.((patrochilles modern au, still readable as just boyxboy))





	1. "the fastest boy in school"

At least, that's what everyone thought at first. 

Feet beating on the pavement was a heroic thing, a revered thing. Running was one of the least chosen activities, simply because it was too hard. Sprinting for hours didn't quite seem like leisure time to most people.

Until he showed up.

The boy with the golden hair, and the constant, amused upturn of his lips. The way he stood jauntily, yet with a quiet, and regal, elegance. The boy that ran, that ran for hours, that trained as hard as he could, all for the ten seconds of a single race, a single dash to the finish line.

They called him the Golden Boy.

Suddenly, running became popular again.

"The fastest boy in the school," they all said. "Faster than anyone I've ever known."

They were wrong.

There was someone else that was faster, much faster. He wasn't much good at running, nor at making friends. Most of his life, he had drifted, alone, through the corridors, and he didn't mind it that way. He slid through the days easily enough, doing what was required, and nothing more. He was nothing like the Golden Boy. His hair was dark, eyes even darker, skin nutmeg brown. He wasn't a runner.

At the end of the school day, he would go to the change rooms, change into swimwear, and dive into the school's pool, unnoticed, unafraid. He would swim, faster and faster and faster, until he was gasping for air between the strokes of his arms. It didn't bother him that it took a few minutes to catch his breath. It was worth it, in the end.

He was much faster than the Golden Boy, in all truth. The fastest swimmer in the state- and he hadn't told anyone. Nobody knew. The school, the teachers, the students didn't know that, at the swim finals, he was the one that had lead his team to victory time and time again. 

And he was okay with that.

So every day, he would swim, unnoticed, happy. 

But all that was about to change.

Because the Golden Boy liked swimming too.


	2. "are you new here?"

Patroclus slid through the water, his arms beating back and forth, propelling him forward. Water streamed past his goggles, and splashes from his kicking hit his back, but he ignored it, kept moving forward. His arms were starting to get tired, his kicking lagging as he finished his fifteenth lap.

His hand brushed the wall, and he let himself sink down, breathing heavily. Leaning against the wall, he pushed himself up, sitting on the edge of the pool. He pulled his swim cap off, shaking his hair out.

"You're pretty fast."

Shit. 

Patroclus stiffened, grasping at the side of the pool. 

Tried to ignore the boy making his way down the stairs, walking towards him.

"I haven't seen anyone swim like that in a while."

Golden hair, an easy tone, and, now that the boy was closer, Pat could see an easy smile on his face. Golden Boy, wearing the usual- sports clothes, sneakers, a loose hoodie over the top. 

"Good for you," Pat replied, wishing he could disappear. It was bad enough that someone had seen him swimming, but someone like this? Someone extremely popular, able to bend wills to his own, to humiliate anyone he wanted?

Not so fun.

"How long have you been training?" The Golden Boy was next to him now, bending down to sit on the side of the pool. He pulled his shoes off, dangling his feet in the water.

"I dunno," Pat told him. "I've never been part of a real swim academy, if that's what you mean."

"I don't think we've met," the runner said easily, smiling at Patroclus. "I'm Achilles. Nice to meet you."

"Patroclus," Pat muttered, suddenly ashamed of his own name. "Most people just call me Pat."

"It's a nice name."

"I guess so."

"Are you new here?"

Ah, and there it was. The classic question. Are you new here? I haven't seen you around before. 

"I thought _you_ were the new kid this year."

Achilles laughed, a surprising sound. Patroclus looked down at the water, wondering what he had said that was so funny.

"No, you're right," Achilles said between laughs. "I'm new this year, yeah. Sorry- most people have heard of me at this point, so I'm used to people thinking I've been here for a while." Words that would have seemed arrogant and self-centered on anyone else seemed natural on him, simply fact. 

Silence. Patroclus kicked his feet through the water, hoping that Achilles would get the message and leave. It wasn't like he was the worst person in the world- Pat simply preferred to swim alone. That way, nobody could make fun of him for it.

Pat was fast, but not a graceful swimmer. His technique was good at best, and he didn't exactly look beautiful with his hair wet and water streaming down his face.

Which, ironically, was exactly how he looked right now.

"Do you want me to get your towel?" Achilles' voice broke Patroclus out of his reverie, bringing him back to reality. He glanced up, seeing Achilles standing over him. "You must be cold."

"Uh, I'm okay," Pat muttered. "I'll just... dry off later. I'm fine." He still had a few more laps to go. He had really only been intending to take a short break. "You can go if you want."

"Nah, I'm good," Achilles grinned. "I've got another hour until I start training again. You know, for running," he added, seeing Pat's confused look. "I don't swim very well, to be honest." He laughed softly. "My mum keeps trying to get me into it. She loves the beach for some reason."

Pat nodded.

"Sorry, I'm rambling again," he continued. "But yeah, I've got another hour until I need to run." And then, almost as an afterthought- "Are you hungry?"

"What?" Pat looked up, his hair sticking to his forehead. 

"You must be hungry," Achilles said, looking down at him. "Have you been training since school ended?"

"Yeah, I guess I have."

"For three hours?" Achilles raised his eyebrows. "You must be hungry then. Wanna get some food or something? There's a McDonald's down the road."

"I don't have any money," Patroclus said stupidly, confused. _Is he trying to buy me food? Hang out with me?_

_The food's probably poisoned,_ he reasoned. _Probably the only reason he wants to hang out with me is that he's a hired hitman or something._

"Patroclus?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess I'm hungry. I don't have any money. I'll make something at home, I only live half an hour away."

"I'll pay for you, no big deal."

Pat stared down at the water. He still had a few more laps to go... But his stomach was growling ever so slightly, and he knew he'd be starving by the time he got home.

"If you want to," he said softly. "Can you get me my towel?"


	3. "someone would walk in"

"Why'd you bring me here?" Patroclus asked, covering his mouth with one hand, holding a burger in the other.

"You looked hungry," Achilles said simply, picking up a few fries and eating them one by one. Somehow, it seemed like a graceful, delicate motion on him.

"Uh, I guess so." And, for a moment, they sat in silence, both of them eating under the harsh glow of fluorescent lights. "But how did you know it was me?"

Achilles looked up, his brow furrowed, his eyes confused. "Whaddya mean? Of course you're you."

"No, no," Pat said hastily, trying to correct his mistake. "It's just..." He paused for a minute, trying to think of what to say. "How did you know I was a student? When you saw me, I mean. Since you asked me if I was new and all, and you didn't seem to be afraid of me anyways. I mean, I could have been some random dude that just walked in."

Achilles rolled his eyes. "Yeah," he said dryly, despite the fact that he was grinning. "I'm sure someone would walk in to go _swimming._ "

"Hey! I'm just saying!" But by this point, Pat was too tired to argue. He let a smile slip onto his face, and, before he knew it, the two of them were laughing, talking about this and that.

"Oh, do you have-"

"Miss Jacobsen? Yeah. Did you hear about that time she _accidentally_ hit a kid with an eraser?"

"What?"

"Or, at least, she pretended it was an accident."

An hour passed, and they were still talking. Patroclus' cheeks hurt from smiling so much. It had been a long time since he'd talked for so long. Night had begun to fall, softly creeping into a pink, dusty sky. It seemed like nothing could go wrong.

_"Shit,"_ Patroclus heard, and turned to see Achilles staring down at his watch. 

"What's wrong?"

Achilles smiled apologetically. "Practice started ten minutes ago." He grabbed his backpack, pulling it off the McDonalds chair. "I'm really sorry dude, I've gotta go." Patroclus nodded, grabbing his own bag and sliding it onto his back.

"It's okay," he said softly. "It was nice talking to you."

They said their goodbyes, and, as Pat walked home, he couldn't help but think he saw an inkling of a blush spread over Achilles' face when he said goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you're enjoying the story so far!!  
> as always, any constructive criticisms are welcome :)


	4. "bri"

The train whistled softly as it made its way downtown, Patroclus seated comfortably in the back carriage. His earbuds were in his ears, playing something soft. His eyes were glued to his phone, swiping through a book he had downloaded. Only a few more stops before he had to get off. 

"Do you mind if I sit here?" 

He looked up to see a girl, her hair long, her eyes dark and friendly. Unsure what to do, he simply nodded, and she settled down next to him. He knew her well, oh so well.

"It's been a long time," she said softly, and he nodded, still dumbstruck. What was she doing here? 

Of all the days he'd had, this one was by far the strangest.

"Bri," he muttered, and the girl reached out her arms, pulling him into a hug. He smiled into the embrace, then pulled back, grinning at her. "What're you doing here? I thought you moved!"

"I did," Briseis said slowly, as if she was thinking about it. She tilted her head to the side, a nervous habit. "But my dad decided we might as well come back. It's not like he was gonna find a job anywhere else, and the house was getting expensive." Pat smiled, shaking his head ever so slightly.

"I'm glad you're back," he grinned, overwhelmed by happiness. It had been almost five months... And yet, he hadn't heard from her at all. "Hey, why didn't you text me back?"

Her eyes almost betrayed a glimmer of sadness. "We had to get rid of the phones- only one for the family. The bills were too expensive." Pat nodded, feeling guilty for even asking. This wasn't about him. "I'm really sorry for not replying to you."

"No, no, it's no problem! I'm just glad you're back here." And, as if on cue, the train pulled into the station. Pat stood up, grabbing his bag off the floor. "Well, this is my stop. You're welcome to come to my place if you want," he added. Briseis shook her head, smiling at him.

"I'm okay for tonight. Good to see you."

"Bye!" Pat waved, then stepped off the train. The train shot by in a blur of sound and colour, and Pat couldn't help but smile. Today really had been his lucky day.


	5. "i have... training"

Achilles had barely stepped into school when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Spinning around, his bag collided with her chest, and she groaned in pain.

"Oh, sorry," he said, keeping his eyes low. "I didn't see you there." Just keep walking. She doesn't have to talk to you right now. 

"Did you get my science notes?" the girl asked, and Achilles shook his head. She feigned anger, but there was no hiding the blush spreading over her face. "You need them for the test."

Achilles nodded, slowly inching away from her. "Thanks, Deia," he said quietly, almost under his breath. Still looking at the floor, he turned to leave, but Deidameia grabbed his arm, smiling her uncanny, pretty little smile. 

"So you haven't studied then?" she asked, her face now in close proximity to his, her eyes narrow. "If you want, you could come over to my place tonight to work on it." Achilles said nothing, simply glanced down and hoped it would be over soon. A moment passed.

"Maybe later," he blurted suddenly, and she let go of his arm. "I have... training tonight." 

This was a lie, but if Deia noticed, she didn't seem to show it. Her smile was as chipper as always, her eyebrows high and arched. 

"No problem! The offer always stands," she breathed, "and I mean always." Achilles smiled uneasily. 

"Thanks," he muttered. Now was the time to leave. "I've gotta go, I'll see you around."

And so the Golden Boy left, quickly stepping away and forcing his way through the corridors, packed full of people. He made it to his locker and pulled it open. Pieces of paper spilled out, and he shoved them back in, searching for his books. 

It wasn't that he was disorganised- he would have preferred to clean it up- but he didn't have a lot of time anymore. What with training and school, he didn't have much time to clean, or do homework every night. 

And then came the issue of Deia. 

Although he didn't mind the attention, it was just the fact that it came from her. Her, with her arched eyebrows, high cheekbones and curly black hair. 

He closed his locker, shoving his textbooks into his back. Another day, another relentless amount of hours spent taking courses he wouldn't ever use. Astronomy? Who had time for that?

The bell rang, and he headed off to class, seemingly unaware that Deia was following him.


	6. "the golden sidekick"

"Hey," Pat heard, and he felt an annoyed groan escape his lips. 

He turned to see Achilles, striding down the stairss leading to the side of the pool, where Pat was drying his hair, panting softly. Achilles smiled, and Pat knew he wanted something.

"What is it?" he asked, narrowing his eyes as he dried himself off. 

"What?" Achilles asked, almost absentmindedly, as if he didn't want anything to do with Patroclus, had simply run into him on a morning walk. "What do you mean?"

Pat sighed, rolling his eyes. "You obviously want something." At this, Achilles gasped, pretending to be offended. 

"Of course not! Why would _I,_ the great Achilles, need anything from swimmer boy?" Despite his irritation, Pat couldn't stop a smile from slipping onto his face. Golden Boy had a way with words. 

"You don't usually come by here," Patroclus said slowly, "and you've been here twice within four days. I'm assuming you're here to either blackmail me, or to kill me."

"Good guess, but that's not quite right," Achilles grinned, running a hand through his hair. He leaned in close, his eyes open with excitement. 

Pat almost fell over. 

He stumbled back against the wall, suddenly aware of how little space there was between them. If he wanted to- which he didn't, of course- he could reach out and kiss Achilles' lips, the lips that seemed to make every girl in the school weak at the knees. Kiss the Golden Boy. Become the Golden... Sidekick?

Achilles' voice broke Patroclus out of his thoughts.

"Do you know anywhere secret?"

And Patroclus pushed Achilles back, irritation growing angrily inside him now.

"Are you serious?" Pat couldn't hide the disdain in his voice. "You came here to ask me to help you run away or something?"

"No, no, just for a night-"

"Is this why you wanted to hang out with me yesterday? Now that I owe you 2 dollars for a burger, you get whatever you want from me?" Patroclus' voice was developing a touch of hysteria. Achilles looked perplexed at this point. 

"No, Pat, listen, I-"

"Okay," Pat sighed. There was nothing he could do about it. As far as he knew, whatever the Golden Boy wanted, the Golden Boy got. Fame (a plastic trophy), fortune (the $3 the plastic trophy sold for), and girls. It all belonged to him.

"Whaddya need a 'secret place' for? Parents making you move out or something?"

"Nothing like that," Achilles sighed, a bemused look on his face. "A girl's stalking me," he admitted. 

Was it a trick of the light, or did Pat seem momentarily saddened by this news?

"I don't like her," he added hastily. "But she's trying to get me to use her science notes and stuff. The test is in four weeks, Pat. _Four weeks._ " Pat laughed softly, nodding slowly. 

"Yeah, you can stay at my place for the night. My dad's almost never home anyway," he said, pulling his shirt over his head. "But only for one night," he said, a slight glare setting over his face. "Can't get over-attached to my tiny apartment."

Achilles laughed. "I'll try not to."

And so the two of them left, walking side by side, one with wet hair, one in running gear. And they walked to the train station and caught the train, and all was right with the world.


	7. "sir bob"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gays with plants

Inside of a small town was a small apartment, and inside that apartment was a boy with dark hair, his friend, and twenty or so tiny plants. 

"Quite a collection," Achilles said, more to himself than Patroclus. Pat nodded, almost feeling embarrassed. "Do you name them?" 

Pat shook his head, a small smile playing onto his lips. "I just water them," he replied softly, setting his bag down on the floor. Achilles had already thrown his onto the couch. "They're not much company."

Achilles looked up, smiling. "You should name them." And, before Pat could react- "I now pronounce you Sir Bob," he said, patting one of the succulents on the head. Pat burst out laughing. 

_"Sir Bob?_ " he asked, grinning. "Really, Achilles?"

"Well, I mean, he needed a name, so-"

_"Sir Bob_ is _not_ a name, Achilles."

"Really?" Achilles asked, stretching to his full height, leaving Sir Bob alone on the window ledge. "At least we can call him something now." Pat laughed. "Fine, what do you wanna call him?"

Pat shrugged. "Anything." Achilles opened his mouth, but Patroclus was faster. "Anything but Sir Bob." 

"Godammit."

Pat laughed one last time before checking his watch. 10 past 6. "Want anything to eat?" he asked. Achilles shrugged, flopping onto the couch. 

"Whatever you want."

And something, something set off in Pat's brain, staring down at this boy, who somehow made lying on a couch seem impossibly graceful. He wasn't sure what it was. His face felt hot. 

So he left the room, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge, trying to work out what he could make. 

_He's pretty._

No, no, that wasn't it. Pat ignored the thought, trying to calm his suddenly faster heartbeat. Almost nothing in the fridge 

_Maybe you're just weirded out because Bri's the only other person that's been here._

Yes, that was it. Certainly he wasn't used to other people being in his apartment, looking at his pot plants, naming them Sir Bob. He snickered softly, then stopped himself. He would have to order pizza, or some other delivery service. 

"Achilles," he called out, "do you want pizza or noodles?" 

Silence. 

"Achilles?"

More silence. 

"Achilles?" Pat's voice was beginning to rise now as he closed the fridge, leaving the kitchen. _"Achilles?_ " He stalked into the living room, almost running. 

Achilles wasn't on the couch. 

"Boo!" 

Pat cried out, falling backwards and hitting the floor. Achilles' laughter quickly subsided as he looked down, biting his lip. 

"You alright?" Achilles asked, seemingly embarrassed. "I didn't mean to knock you over..." Pat pushed himself up, trying to ignore the pain sprouting up his wrists. He had to admit, it was pretty funny. 

And so, he laughed, ever so softly, until the two of them were both smiling, and then he pushed Achilles. 

Achilles hit the ground, a look of shock on his face. "Hey! What was that for?" He seemed indignant, ironic for someone that had just fallen over. "Rude," he muttered, sticking out his hand. Pat grabbed it, pulling him up. 

And there it was again. The sudden heartbeat, one that couldn't be attributed to being scared. Achilles' face was so close to his, once again. Patroclus looked down, trying to focus on the ground, trying to look away from the boy that stood so close, that seemed eternally pretty and strong. 

Achilles cleared his throat, and Patroclus looked back up. 

Big mistake. 

They were so close their foreheads were almost touching, Pat's eyes wide with what was both fear and confusion. He didn't know where to look, so he just looked down. 

At Achilles' lips. 

Time seemed to pass eternally slowly, as if some god had turned an hourglass on its side. Pat was staring, staring at this boy's lips, so close to his, moving closer. 

Achilles' phone buzzed, and the spell was broken. 

Pat jumped away, almost as if he had been stung. His face was red. He felt like he had run a hundred miles. Achilles said nothing, just bowed his head and looked down at his phone. Looked up. Some emotion- something Patroclus couldn't quite figure out, played over his face. 

"I have to go," Achilles said, and, without another word, left the apartment, leaving behind a dark-haired boy and a plant named Sir Bob.


	8. "effortless grace"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wow this is a long chapter

Patroclus stepped through the school hallway, trying to avoid getting bumped into. His head was low, his eyes on the floor. It had always worked that way. 

For as long as he could remember, he had been practically invisible. He didn't own a lot, didn't dress in flashy clothes. He wasn't poor- reusing old clothes would have brought far more attention than being rich. 

And that was what he hated. 

He made it to one of the benches, nestled at the very back of the corridor, where it split off into two different sections. This was where he usually sat, undisturbed. However, it wasn't a loner bench- the people that sat at it were popular, friendly enough. Usually they were just studying or finishing homework before class. He talked to them sometimes. They were nice. 

Today, there was only one other person sitting on the bench, some girl named Helen, or something similar. Her strikingly dark eyes glinted up at him as he sat down, a slight smile curving her ruby red lips. "Morning," he said awkwardly. She didn't reply, turning back to her computer. He set his bag down on the floor. 

There was fifteen minutes until class started. With any luck, Achilles wouldn't show up. Pat would be able to go on with his day. 

Before he could stop them, thoughts flooded in, thoughts of a certain boy sprawled gracefully over the couch, a certain boy kneeling beside pot plants, a certain boy leaning in closer and closer, leaning in, leaning in, and- 

Stop, he told himself. His face felt hot. 

It was just his luck that Achilles chose that exact moment to show up. 

"Hey," Achilles said, tugging on the sleeve of his hoodie, glancing away from Pat. The motion was awkward, graceless. Patroclus felt his heart sink. He probably hates me. "Um, I'm sorry about yesterday."

"What?" Pat looked up, confused. What did Achilles have to be sorry about? He should be the one that was apologizing. "No, I- it's okay, I mean. You don't have anything to be sorry about."

"What, for leaving early?" Achilles asked, and Pat felt a strike of- disappointment?- flash through him. "I shouldn't have run off," he said apologetically, still glancing at the floor. 

Patroclus shook his head. "Don't worry about it." Looking up, another thought crossed his mind. "Are you okay?" 

"What?" Fear- or was it guilt?- flashed over Achilles' face. It was too quick for Pat to tell. He regained his composure, cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" His voice sounded breathy.

Pat lifted an eyebrow, unconvinced, but didn't say anything. He figured that, if Achilles didn't want to say what was wrong, he wouldn't appreciate being forced to talk. 

Instead, he shuffled over, gently nudging Helen with his thigh. She glanced up once again, then turned back to typing. Pat tilted his head slightly to the side. 

"You can sit if you want," he said. 

Achilles sat, pushing his bag underneath the bench. Unlike Pat's bad posture, he sat straight up, his back pressed lightly up against the wall. Effortless grace. 

Pat quickly turned away. 

Silence. 

Helen looked up sleepily, as if she had been up late revising. Patroclus didn't doubt it. Apparently the tests were someone brutal, especially for science. Luckily, he didn't have to worry- science was one of his best subjects, especially biology. Now there was something to talk about. 

"What's your favourite subject?" he asked. Achilles opened his mouth to speak, but Pat cut him off. "And no, running club doesn't count." 

Achilles gave a mock sigh, and Pat grinned. "I guess I like music," he said. Pat's eyes widened. 

"Really? What do you play?" 

"It's like a small harp. A really small one."

"A lyre?"

"I guess so. My music teacher just calls it a really small harp." Pat laughed again. "And you?" 

"Huh?"

"What're your favourite subjects then?"

Patroclus considered the question for a moment, as if there was any kind of choice to make. "Science," he said carefully. "Especially biology. I want to be a doctor when I'm older."

"Ah, really?" Achilles raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think you were the type." 

"What's 'the type', then?" Pat challenged.

"I don't know," Achilles replied. "Someone less strong than you are." Patroclus flushed slightly. "I meant your swimming."

"Oh."

"Are you just gonna give it up?" 

"Well, I mean, med school is tough. I wouldn't have time- if I ever got in," Pat said, a touch wistfully. "I mean, it's not like swimming's gonna help people."

"Mhm," Achilles said in response. "I guess not." A pause. "But you could still try to get a scholarship or something." 

"What, for swimming? No good school would ever accept me."

"You must be one of the, no, the best swimmers in the city, and you're saying they won't accept you?"

"Best in state for my age," Pat muttered under his breath. Achilles nodded enthusiastically. 

"Exactly! You shouldn't try to limit yourself if you want to swim!"

"Achilles."

"I mean, if you want to be a doctor, that's fine and all, but-"

_"Achilles."_

And Achilles stopped talking. 

"Sorry," he muttered sheepishly. 

"It's fine," Pat sighed," but if I wanted to yell about my future, I'd talk to my dad. No offense."

"None taken."

And Pat shifted in his seat ever so slightly, seeming uncomfortable. 

"I- I wanted to apologise," he said after a moment of silence. "About last night." He said nothing else. He seemed to be struggling to think of what to say. 

"What, for almost kissing me?"

And Pat thought his heart would give out. 

"Uh, yeah," he whispered. "I'm really sorry." 

A few seconds past, a few agonising seconds. Pat stared down at his shoes. 

"It's no problem, " Achilles said suddenly, and Pat looked up to see he was smiling. "But, hey, between you and me-" he leaned in slightly- "at least get to know me before you try to make out with me." Pat felt like he was on fire. 

"I wasn't- I didn't-" he spluttered, but it was no use. Achilles grinned at him, his same good-natured smile. "That wasn't-" 

"Achilles?" they both heard, and Pat glanced upwards. A girl was standing before them, smiling ever so slightly. Beside Pat, Achilles shifted ever so slightly. 

"Uh, hey," he said slowly, looking up at her. "Sorry I didn't show up yesterday." 

Her smile didn't fall a bit, and Patroclus realised that it was fake. "No problem! Why don't we go study now?" 

And with that, her hand was on Achilles' arm. Pat stiffened as Achilles stood, let himself be lead away. 

_Sorry,_ he mouthed at Patroclus, and then he was gone.


	9. "unknown number"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry this took so long,,, tbh i completely forgot about this, im so so sorry!! thank you for being patient :)

The train slowed to a stop as it pulled into Pat's station, a singing noise telling him it was time to get off. He pulled his jacket around him. It wasn't particularly cold, but the train was warm and he wasn't used to being outside much.

He walked the route he had always walked, stepping back to his apartment building. The streets were silent, soft background noise compared to the music playing through his earbuds. 

Practice had been boring. Despite himself, he kind of missed being interrupted. He knew that it wasn't good for his abilities, but he missed being told to get out of the pool and go get hot food. Even though it had only been a few days, he felt somewhat empty.

Three days since he last spoke to Achilles.

He knew it shouldn't hurt. They barely knew each other, and, for all he knew, this had been Achilles' plan all along. Make his way into Pat's life. Mess up his practices. Leave, and abandon him for the rest of the world to scorn.

It wasn't his fault, of course. Pat saw him in the hallways, Deidameia's arm wrapped around his waist, his hair tied back in a messy ponytail. Saw the way he smiled, shook his head at what she said, laughed. Saw the way everything seemed fine with him.

And Pat should have been happy, he knew that. Should have been thrilled to see Achilles getting along so well, despite being the new kid. Should have supported him to chase after Deia, if that was what he really wanted.

But he was certain that he couldn't do that, because there was an ache in his chest every time he thought about her. About Achilles. About the two of them together, laughing, sharing those stupid science notes. 

So he tried not to think, and shoved his hands into his pockets instead. His hair was still wet with pool water. He was hungry.

He wasn't sure if his dad would be home- he never seemed to be. After his mother died, there was always some work event, always some important thing to attend to. His dad might have been the boss of some company, but it wasn't a very big one, and it was always in 'a perpetual state of struggle', as his dad said. Pat knew that he should be grateful for what he had- a middle-class apartment, a somewhat normal lifestyle, and not too many financial issues. He knew he should be grateful to be able to go to his high school, even if it was a public one. 

And, up until a few weeks ago, he had been grateful. 

But that had all stopped when the Golden Boy just decided to show up at his practice.

Patroclus realised, with a sudden jolt, that almost every single one of his practices had been interrupted for the past week. If it had been anyone else, he would have yelled. Asked for a combination lock to be put on the pool's doors. Told whoever it was that they needed to get out.

Maybe it was because he didn't want to reject the Golden Boy at the time. But, over the weeks, it had become somewhat more than that. When Achilles didn't show up, there was some kind of ache in his chest. He felt it now, the familiar, soft pain.

So maybe he should have been grateful for what he had. Maybe he should have been more attentive, worked out what was working and what wasn't. But some part of him knew that that wouldn't fix anything. Achilles was with Deia now, as far as he knew. That was something he would have to live with. Something he should be happy with.

Then why couldn't he stop his heart from hurting?

The apartment door made its familiar clicking sound as he pushed it inwards. "I'm home." 

No response, as expected. Pat sighed and set his bag down on the floor, his stomach growling. He made his way to the kitchen, pulled the fridge door open. There wasn't a lot of food, but at least enough to make a dinner of some sort.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, confused.

_Unknown Number: hey, sorry about not showing up to practice_

Pat raised one eyebrow, then typed out a response.

_achilles?_

_Unknown Number: yea hi, sorry about not being there and all_

Pat sighed, send a reply. _You don't need to be sorry about anything, you don't even swim dude_

_Unknown Number: but you do._

What the hell did that mean? Pat's heart started beating a quick rhythm, a staccato of questions. Does he miss me? Did Deia stop him from talking to me? Why am I so confused about all of this?

But, for the moment being, there was the issue of replying to the message.

_whatever,_ Pat wrote, but quickly deleted it. He changed it for a simple _How'd you get my number?_ and set his phone down on the table. He heard it buzz, but chose to ignore it. It didn't really matter to him.

Maybe Achilles missed him a little bit too.

Pat hadn't admitted it to himself, and maybe he never would, but he had always been alone, and everything was based around that. His carefully planned practice times were being interrupted. He should have been angry about it. 

But it was somewhat hard to be angry when you had that face looking at you.

**Author's Note:**

> first patrochilles fic, please be nice to me lmao  
> tumblr is @queen-silver-netting, hit me up with headcanons, ideas, or even just screaming because i love these two dorks


End file.
